Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1887-01-26

wasu " carry z Gay. I mace tne q.
rangements alluded to with the amiable and
generous Mr.. Fish for two gallons Of milk q
day. I contracted with the butcher for beef,
and I brought Strawberries and vegetables
home in q basket.
My city guests supposed that an tAoss straw
berries grew in the garden, and that we kept
. herd Of cows. Berries were twenty-five
cents q basket In the market, and they were
not hulled. But the marketman always threw
Q basket in on every two dozen. He always
did, be said, when one bought for . hotel.
AT home, you know" said young CALI
ope, with tho candor of youth, "in tho city,
you know, you can't have mors'n a pre-.
sesve dish of Strawberries at a meal. They
are 50 beastly dear; but here, where you
get 'em for nothing, you can eat q bowl
full"
Did I tell you that Peggy was Comet She
was. She went the second morning. "And
I'd like to know what you'd be naming by
hiring me for two and giving me a dozen to
work for?" she had said; land thin doing
nothing but ate all the day long, and me
turned of me honest bed to slape on spikes,
after putin in me hard day, and dishes to
wash, till I do be goin' crazy"
Icould not defend myself. I could only
promise her a silk dress if she would stay her
month out.
I'D have nobody left to put it on, If I
worked myself to death, " said Peggy. I'D
rather have me flesh in me Calico" and 80 she
departed.
After that Mrs. Turtledove lived in the
kitchen. No one seemed to know it. None
Of the ladies over made their beds, OF filed
their water pitchers, or offered any assist
ance
sat up all night to pare potatoes and tur-
nips, lay the fire, and do all I could, and I
became q beast of burden as to baskets; but
business must be attended to. Poor little
Mrs. Turtledove grew thinner every day,
whereas our guests pumped up beautifully.
Still We were gaining the reputation of being
very hospitable, and that was something.
Our friends thought SO much of us-that was
more. But, alas! We soon found that they
were not as well pleased with each other. It
began by Mrs. Calliope wondering at tho
goings on Of that Miss Mittens with Mr.. Null
ligan. Next Miss Mittens was astonished that
Miss Calliope should fancy Mr.. Mulligan
could desire to be followed about by q chit
like her. Then Mr.. Calliope had an argu-
ment with Mr.. Mulligan on religious subjects,
and gravely inquired whether I did not think
it wrong to have q free-thinker in my house.
Then the argument waxed louder as Miss
Mittens, who was High Church, contended
with Mrs. Calliope, who was a Methodist.
Then young Calliope kissed Miss Mittens in
the front garden, and Mr.. Mulligan had
words with him about it.; and at last the un.
lucky Bangs familiar spirit hunted him up
aud hooon ~ p,,r IN tho 1uolle tin <hA Asn;o~-
table, made him 60 off in series Of starts and
jerks at inopportune times, and at last forced
him to write a Communication" in which the
spirit of Voltaire called Mr.. Calliope a "mis-
guided wanderer from truth"
That day, as I came home with the straw.
berries, I met Fishers wagon going down to
the depot. It was full Of Calliopea.
@Adisu, my friend, said Mr.. Calliope. "We
are going. We grieve to part, but we must
go. Table tipping and such denominations are
too much for u.s."
~And that forward hussy" said Mrs. CALI
ope. "Ah!"
@And that fellow with the mustaches!" said
young Calliope. II say, Mr.. Turtledove, why
don't you kick him outg"
Miss Calliope only tossed her head.
A little further on I met q light wagon; in
it sat Mr.. Mulligan and Miss Mittens.
"Good-by, old fellow" cried Mulligan. ~
say, you've got in with a nice lot. It's only
for your wife that has kept me from
trouncing them-some of EN-"
Miss Mittens was in tears.
Further on still I met Bangs on foot, who, |
rs I learned Oh getting home, had left because
Mrs. Turtledove had protested against the |
heavy rappings on the kitchen ceiling. |
~ have been impressed to leave you, my
he said, solemnly. Farewell. Verify,
shall lave their reward"
So our few friends were gone. They didn't
70 in peace, and that we regretted; but still
hey were gone, and life has its consolation
New York Daily News.